


Enforcer

by Vector



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mobster, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-16
Updated: 2007-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vector/pseuds/Vector





	Enforcer

Balthier keeps his face towards the road but slants his eyes sideways at the woman in his passenger seat.

He's not sure what to read of this assignment. He was given the boss's car and told to drive this beautiful woman to some secluded location in the suburbs. What little clothes she's wearing appear to be constructed entirely out of PVC. Is this supposed to be a test of his self control?

"So," he tries eventually. "What should I call you?"

For a moment he thinks she'll ignore him completely. Then she turns her head slightly, and he thinks he sees a faint smile as she says, in a purring voice that may feature prominently in his dreams for a while, "Fran. If you would."

Then suddenly all thoughts of bedroom fantasies are chased away as his brain makes connections. _Fran_. He's heard of her, and considering how little the others like chatting with the new guy, that's something. She'd joined the syndicate out of nowhere a handful of years ago, according to Sandy, and in short order became one of their best enforcers.

Rodney claimed to have info that she was Playmate of the Month in May of '02—under a different name, of course—and Balthier can certainly see it. He also said that the last guy to mention that ended up with an arm broken in four places, and now that he knows who she is he can see that too.

When he pulls up to a stoplight, he tries to figure out where she's hiding her weapons. A stiletto tucked in her hair, maybe? Actually, it's long and thick enough she might be managing a back holster, too. He can't really tell which of the black straps are part of her outfit.

He realizes he's staring.

"First time on a run?" She says, voice almost even, and Balthier hopes like hell that the slight edge in it is amusement rather than offense. Either way's not good, of course. He could use her respect.

"First time with someone of your skill," he responds smoothly. "I've heard stories. I might even say I'm honored," he says lightly, enough that he could be teasing.

"Aha." She says, with a quirked eyebrow, then turns to look out her window. "We're almost there. Are you armed?"

Balthier nods.

"Good. Pull in over there."

Once he's parked – in such a way that he can get out quickly, because he suspects this is going to be that sort of night – he reaches for the door handle. Fran interrupts him.

"Stay with the car," she says. "This is supposed to be a business deal. Pretend you're just a chauffeur boy, you look the part enough." Balthier sighs.

Fran crosses to an alley across the street, but the moon and the streetlamps are bright enough that he can still see her as he leans against the hood of the car. Clearly she's supposed to look harmless, standing there, but Balthier can't see how anyone would be fooled. She paces the ground like a predator.

After ten or fifteen minutes someone finally shows up. Three someones, all bulky thugs by their silhouettes. Not even trying to make it look like the deal's going to go down.

They walk right up to Fran. They talk for a few minutes, and Balthier doesn't have to be in earshot to know what's being said. _I'm afraid there's been a change of plan. We need to teach your boss a lesson._ Thugs are never very creative.

Even knowing it's going to happen, Balthier doesn't catch her drawing her knife before the first thug is down. Then there's two quick _pfft _sounds, too quiet to be a bullets, even silenced – darts of some kind, maybe? – and the other two stagger briefly before she stabs them too.

And then somehow there's three more after her, out of nowhere – they must have hidden before Balthier and Fran had even gotten there. She's got them, though, pulled a pistol and fired off two shots before they manage to pin her down. The last one fires wildly at her as he gets close, and she brandishes her knife to finish him, but somehow there's another, in her blind spot –

Balthier pulls his own piece instantly, and doesn't think about how unlikely it is that he'll hit the guy from this distance before he's aiming and squeezing the trigger. His gun isn't silenced, and it echoes around the quiet streets.

The thug drops his gun and staggers to the ground just as Fran slits the throat of the man in front of her and turns. When she sees Balthier's target bleeding she whirls back and quickly strides back across the street.

Balthier has the car started before she opens her door, and he's pulling away before she can say anything.

"You're a pretty good shot," is what she finally says, once they're safely out of the area.

You are amazing, he doesn't say. "I do try." Balthier eyes his rearview.

"I've got another job next weekend," she says when they're back at HQ. "I'll need an escort. You free?"

He suspects all that means is that she's got to kill someone at a fancy party and needs someone on her arm for cover, but it makes him flush all the same. And, his rational brain reminds him, it's an _opportunity_.

"I believe I am."


End file.
